Six Foot Deep

by eckles

Dawn has an opportunity to study with her idol, Lara Croft. And Buffy decides to tag along as the next adventure of her sister's Hero happen's to be directly linked to the Slayer Origin. But a deeper mystery is why is Lara now calling herself Mrs Harris?

12. Chapter 12

AUTHORS MESSAGE:

So sorry for the long wait between chapters. Trust me, I have a good excuse. Not gonna share it though .

This Chapter will touch on some dark themes, not for the skittish. But I really wanted to emphasise that maybe there is more to Giles keeping the Lover's a secret from Buffy then just doctrine. That he had a really, really, REALLY good reason for it!

Let the fun and games begin.

Oh yeah, don't forget to Review. I love reading them.

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The 'inside-joke' that the two English men were sharing with one another was shattered by the abrupt chimes of the telephone sitting to Rupert Giles left. He picked up the receiver with a smooth motion as his other hand, following an age-worn path through the air stabbed at one of the many blinking buttons on his console.

"Yes?"

"Mr Giles … Mr Cavender needs to speak to you."

"Can it wait Mary? I'm …*"

"I'm sorry, Sir. But he was extremely insistent. He said he needs to update you on some recent developments and he believes it needs to be done in person … not over the intercom or phone. He wouldn't expand on why."

Giles closed his eyes and pondered the best course of action. As much as he felt that he needed to remain here in his office to oversee the current issue. He also had a responsibility to other Slayer's. Buffy was now only one of literally thousands of other Slayer's doing their duty. And as much as his heart would also be drawn to her and her assorted problem's he recognised that time had indeed passed and she was a grownup.

With his mind made up, he nodded to Mary Brunt's request, well aware that she would be oblivious to the physical action. "Very well, Mary. Let him know that I will be with him in a moment."

"Will do, Sir."

Returning the receiver back to the cradle, Giles removed his glasses and pinched his eyes. "As you both heard, I have been called away."

"Problem?" Buffy asked.

"George is a very competent gentleman, Buffy…." To this and to Buffy right, she noticed that Reginald Archer Snr. was nodding in full agreement to this statement. "… if he is requesting my presence, especially insistently as Mary had claimed, then I must take his summons seriously." Giles then stood up, passing an appraising eye over both of his guests. "Until I return, I wish you both to cease any further discussions."

"Why?" Buffy queried.

"To put it simply. The two of you need a referee. You, Buffy, are far too defensive …*"

"Am not." The Slayer said with a pout in her voice. Giles rolled his eyes.

"And as for you, Old Man, you're far too antagonistic."

"If a person is an idiot, I call them an idiot."

"The trouble with that, Old Chap, is according to you every man and his giddy aunt is an idiot." Giles replied, tugging down his tweed vest and making his way over to his matching tweed jacket hanging on the coat stand by the side-office door that lead to his internal and private stair case. "I'll be back in ten-minutes. Twelve at the most."

"What are we supposed to talk about till then?" Reginald Archer bit out. "It's not like we both share the same hairdresser you know."

Giles paused at the door. "I don't bloody know. Just not about 'The Lovers', not till I return. Am I clear?"

No response.

"I said …"

"WE BOTH HEARD YOU, YOU UPSTART! I'm not deaf."

"Buffy?"

"Fine … whatever." The Slayer answered with a tone of dissatisfaction.

Believing that this was as good of a consensus he was likely to get from the pair, Giles, aggressively exited the room. The sooner he saw Cavender and found out what was so urgent, the sooner he would be able to get back. Images running through his head of the blonde and senior citizen both beaten and bloody by the other's hand prominent in his imagination to welcome his return.

As soon as the door closed behind the Senior Watcher, Archer released a *harrumph* to indicate his annoyance. He then looked over at the young woman to his left, judging her.

"So … 'The Kings Speech'? Like it?"

"Is that the one with the stuttering king? Yeah, not bad. Could have been a lot better with a car chase or two and a few explosions. Maybe a small army of mutant-ninja's thrown in for good measure."

"American's." Reginald rolled his eyes in a very Giles-like-manner and shock his head. Not noticing a small satisfied smile crawl up over Buffy's lips at observing the very-like nuances of this man and wondering if Giles knew how closely he imitated him.

The ancient watch looked around the room and stared at the large ornamental clock on his leader's desk.

"He was never this messy when he was a youngster. A place for everything and everything in its place. That was Rupee, then he got mixed up with that louse Ethan Rayne and then everything went south. Bad influence, he was. Rupert had to be the baddest of the bad. Got mixed up in some pretty shady things, the kind of things I should not mention with the likes of you, young lady. Needless to say, he became a bit of a bad egg. He saw and conversed with the darker side of things back then. Got into trouble by hijacking demon essence … didn't consider the repercussions of such."

"Eyghon … yeah, he told me."

"Oh he did, did he? Did he also tell you that when he fled back to the Council, in an effort to use our Ward's to starve off his ill-concieved agreement with Eyghon, the one that would lay claim to his life all for the sake of a few chuckles, that it was my door he came knocking on first?"

"No."

"Of coarse not." Reginald paused for a moment, considering his words. "I remember it like yesterday … that's the trouble with have a photographic memory … oh sorry, you people call it an 'Identic Memory' now don't you?

"There he was in that idiotic tasselled jacket of his. Tears … blubbering like a 4-year-old who had just stubbed his toe. Begging me to take him in and help him mend all the bridges he had burnt with the Council Higher Ups when he decided to go all 'Ripper'. Idiot. If I hadn't vouched for him, told the lot of them that he had potential. And what did he do to repay that? He spent the next three-years writing that blasted Paper of his. Still, I always said that boy had potential, and I was right … wasn't I? Because there he is, sitting behind the big-desk. Barking order's at me like I was some run of the mill stooge … where did I go wrong?"

"You really care for him don't you?" Buffy said with true tenderness in her tone. "He cares for you as well … I can tell."

"*Hmmf* Well he bloody well should. I'm adorable."

Buffy opened her mouth, and then thought wiser of it then closed.

The old man looked over to the large window, then back to the side table by the nearest wall. It was at the silver tea-pot and china, Giles Assistant had bought in nearly 30-minutes earlier. With tired legs straining under him, Archer Snr. stood up and proceeded over to the silver tray. With a casual gesture he affixed his palm upon the top to judge its temperature. With a self-assessing nod that indicated that he was reasonably satisfied that the contents of the pot were still passably-warm enough to be consumed, he poured himself a darken-toned beverage. No milk … no sugar. Pure tea.

After conquering his first sip and indulging in a blissful second of consideration, Reginald Archer addressed the Slayer. "Have you ever read, Dante, my dear? The Devine Comedy?"

"Heard of it … does that count?"

The aged Watcher released a small strangled chuckle before offering additional words to the Slayer. "Abandon hope all ye who enter here …" Archer then took another reflecting sip before he continued. "That is what is inscribed over the entrance to Hell"

"I've been to Hell, three-different versions of it actually. Demon's there are not much with the written or the verbal warnings. Just suffering and punishment."

"Yes … well, you are now past the point of no-return, my Girl." He then took another sip. "Do you really believe you have the 'stuff' to see all this through to the end?"

"I wouldn't still be sitting here if I didn't."

He offered another hollow chuckle. "That, my dear, is arrogant."

Buffy's eyebrow arched at the insult. "Maybe it's confidence."

"No, my dear Girl. Confidence comes from knowing what to expect and being prepared for it … Arrogance comes from believing you can deal with something that you have never before been confronted with and expecting to experience no difficulty in doing so." He replied without judgement.

"Dunno. I've been confronted with some pretty scary things over the year's … I'm still alive and well they're, y'know … not. So I think *"

"*Ha! Arrogance! Arrogance with a healthy dose of naivety thrown in for good measure. You've made the classic mistake of confusing brash skill for that of simple and dumb luck." Reginald laid his teacup back upon the silver tray and looked the blonde deeply in the eyes. "There is a very good reason why Watcher's do not tell their Charges about the 'Lovers', my Girl."

"Yeah, I know. You like to keep us under your thumb." She said, enforcing what she had said to the pair just moments beforehand.

Reginald sighed. Hadn't they already been over this? It was now well and truly clear to him that Buffy Summer's was like a dog with a bone. She wasn't prepared to give up her resentment at the Council quickly, or for that matter, easily. "Really? Is that what you truly believe? Is that all you have taken from what has been shared with you this morning?" He then shock his head disappointingly. "Do you think, Rupert that petty? That punitive? That man looks upon you like his very own blood. And you believe this of him? Do you *really* believe that every single Watcher for the last one and a half century that cruel and heartless to their past-charges?

"You, my dear girl, may not approve of our past actions. And yes, you may find them all arcane and suffocating. And if I can be completely honest, if I was in your unique position, I would not blame you an ounce if you did indeed think the absolute worse of us."

"Well, as long as we have that settled *"

"* But believe you me girl," The Watcher interrupted, ceasing Buffy's expression of vindication. "… there is indeed a method and a reason to all that we have done. A tried, true and proven justification for it all. And it is one designed to protect you … not only you, but also yours and others from a most horrid fate."

"Sorry, but I'm not seeing any supposed 'method' here except for the callous kind … what I'm seeing, Reggie, is a bunch of old-English-people trying to run my life and ruin any chance I may have had at finding real and blissful happiness."

Reginald Senior shock his head sadly. "Again with the arrogance. No wonder you ended up dying twice."

"Hey! Each of those death's ended up saving the World. So show a little gratitude."

"Oh please, child. Try selling that nonsense to someone who hadn't memorised your various 'adventures' since the very moment you were called right up to your most recent run of disasters in Italy." He chided the Slayer. "I'm more then just a pretty face around here, you know. I have standing and seniority. I *know* where a mountain of bodies are buried, my dear.

"Your various death's were not 'self-less', my girl … they were selfish! Both of them! They were nothing more than a craven escape. An escape from your responsibilities. Whether it was at the hands of the Master or a Swan-Dive off a makeshift tower after your battle with Glorificus. It did not matter. You surrendered … you gave up. Plain and simple. You stopped fighting the good fight and to Hell with everyone who would live in the aftermath of your actions. Family, loved ones, friends, colleagues … it didn't matter … not to you. Not if you could be 'released' from your burden and have some other poor soul take over in your stead."

Buffy turned her head away, unwilling to meet the perceptive glare of the octogenarian.

After several seconds, Reginald Archer Senior, spoke again. This time, however, his tone was far gentler and more forgiving. "You weren't the first … and you will not be the last to have taken such extreme action, my dear. True, you are the first to have kept on 'returning' and not learning from the lesson's of each of your previous death's, however." He then offered her another very odd chuckle. "I have yet to be introduced to or read of a single Slayer who hasn't once tried to throw in the towel during their career. Many just vent. Some employ a bit of self-harming actions … cutting and self-inflicted burns. Not eating a healthy meal … either that or engaging in unwise sexual escapades with the 'wrong-type-of-person' or with complete stranger's. A few have even had … let's call them 'incidents' … on various patrols that were bought about by supposed carelessness on their part during a fight. Painful injuries that would require time to repair before they could be asked to Patrol again by their Guardian's.

"Every Slayer, my dear girl, has some form of pent-up anger and resentment towards their circumstance. Some young ladies are subtle about it; others like you are more … extreme. But all chose to seek some form of 'release' from this life. And whether that release takes the form of a physical, mental or emotional toll, it doesn't truly matter. A release is a release. So you see, Ms Summer's, you are seriously no different from the thousand others who came before you, or the thousands who are presently operating elsewhere in the world. Or even the thousand that will follow in your footsteps. So this 'I-died-and-saved-the-World' spiel you recite like it your mantra really does not hold any water with me and mine."

Buffy tried to keep her expression neutral. But she recognised in his short list, 2-to-3 'reactions' to being a Slayer that she herself could immediately relate too. And she knew for a fact that there was also one or two of those same points also related to Faith as well. Thus far he had knocked two Slayers' in a row out of the park … who was to say that this wasn't also true with the other thousand presently serving?

The 'not-eating' and the whole 'sex-history' part were two of the more glaringly obvious ones that stood out for her … and she had to admit, there were a few times when she had intentionally allowed a Vampire or Demon hit her when she could have just as easily have ducked or evaded the assault. For not only a perverse desire to feel the warm-flush-of-pain take hold of her, but also so she could return to Giles with an impressive bruise or gash. Complaining that she needed a few days 'off' to recoup. Even though she knew that by the next morning her body would have knitted itself back together again. All with the aim of some 'me-time' with wither Angel … or Riley.

"Your destiny, my dear girl, is greater then many can even comprehend. So who could blame you if you did occasionally support such 'dark' thoughts towards your own well-being? But please do not treat yourself as solely unique in this regard, because you are not."

"Well, *you* obviously blame me, that's for damn sure."

Archer offered another chuckle. "No, my Dear. I do not. Nor do I hold you to account, despite what you may believe of me. It is not my right or role to judge you, or the things you have done. But as I said, these things … these thoughts you have about yourself and your standing here, do not make you unique. If anything it makes you painfully boring and … well, 'average'."

Buffy wasn't certain, but she felt as though she had just been insulted. But before she could offer a clipped retort, the Watcher caught her out of left-field with something she didn't see coming.

"And in a perverse and unbelievable way, my Dear, I very much envy you on how predictable your life is, if you can believe that."

"Predictable? You think my life is predictable?"

"Yes. You get called. You fight evils and darkness. And then you die to enjoy a worthy and well fought reward in the here after. Many of us do not have that same guarantee. For us mere and simple mortal's, who must struggle with our vices and our lesser-selves on a daily basis. Your automatic ascension into his Heavenly embrace is one I envy greatly."

Buffy tried hard to conceal her surprise at hearing this claim and keeping her tone steady. "You do?"

Reginald strolled back to his chair.

"Of course I do. You, my dear, despite everything you may believe, have a Purpose in this life that can only be, as I said, envied by those of us who struggle between good and evil every day. True, you might find your destiny disagreeable. But it does not detract from the fact that you have one. A destiny. I have lived on this Earth a great number of decades. I watched my Darling Ellen pass-on into his Glorious Embrace and observed my only son waste away and die of cancer eight years ago. A deed no father should ever have to see. My Grandson and Grand Daughter are even right at this very moment going through the motions to become Watcher's themselves. All with the exaggerated hopes of following in my and their late father's footsteps. And given the present glut of Slayer number's it is a complete certainty that they will both receive their very own Charge immediately after they graduate from the Academy. No years of seasoning for them before they step out into the fore. No, my dear, not for them. No chance for either to identify their own unique style or strengths prior to accepting this great responsibility." Reginald sighed a sad and lonely sigh. "Did you know that a young Watcher's life expectancy is even less then that of their Slayer?"

Buffy remained silent. Not thinking that this was something worth commenting on, especially as it would be with regards to the man's grandchildren.

"I realised after Ellen's death, that even though I was good at what I did … that it held no true interest for me … maybe I was depressed. After all, she passed on just a few years after my namesake did. Now I have my Grandson, who also bares my name … Reginald the third … and he is about to face … well, I'm not certain what he will face. But I know that it will be dangerous.

"You see, I'm not like you, Ms Summer's … I fell into the Council. I wasn't 'Chosen'. I was a Cambridge Student who specialised in Medieval History. After the Second World War, with academic jobs scarce … especially in the field I had chosen to specialised in … and as there was more emphasis upon employment in the field of construction then brain matter I found myself on the 'outs' and on welfare. I tried, but there was no work going. No one wished to employ a partly lame academic. Especially one who wasn't even able to see out the War with all the other returned boys and the like. For those young Heroes, work was being thrown at their feet. But me with my gammy knee?" He held high his Walking Stick. "An injury I earned after a tussle with a Jerry in a French Trench back in '42. Physical labour wasn't exactly a well suited option for me. After a year on hand-outs The Council approached me. They offered me intrigue, and a chance to see the History of the World as it truly was. I was still very much young, enthusiastic, curious and … well, it was a job, wasn't it? But it wasn't exactly what you'd call a 'Calling'.

"I have sacrificed a majority of my life for something that was … for me … a completely empty vocation and a pay check. I'm not saying that it didn't have its own rewards … like you, Ms Summer's; my efforts in the past have starved off more then one Armageddon. And it was I who was successful in finding the history of the Slayer Scythe in our extensive collection and sending that information to Rupert in California. But I became what I became in this Organisation because of necessity, not destiny. And my son and grand-children have all followed me into this damned-life thinking that what they were doing is the noblest of sacrifices.

"No sacrifice, Ms Summer's, no matter how you might try and spin it is ever truly 'noble'. Every sacrifice is motivated by something selfish, even if it is only a little. Most of these empty-gestures are typically governed with the simplistic desire to be 'remembered', and for others … these sacrifices are fuelled by rage. Desires to take whatever bastard you are facing 'down-with-you'.

"Do you truly think your sacrifices over the years, my Girl, truly makes you special … makes you irreplaceable? That it gives you a 'free-pass'. That no one should ever dare question you because you have given up more then anyone else?"

Buffy was feeling a small swell of pity for the old-man, but his sharp questioning towards her own past motives and attitudes now displaced any charitable thoughts towards him. "What does this have to do with anything? And if you must know … I've given up plenty."

"If you have been truly listening to what I and Rupert have been imparting to you then you would know that you really haven't. You have not even come close. Your predecessor's sacrificed so much more. Either in their loneliness or in their tortured end. In keeping you oblivious to the Lover's, and in Rupert surrounding you with friend's you can rely upon in a pinch, he … Rupert … the Council … we were giving you peace. After all, with regard's to your 'Lover', you cannot miss what you have never had, can you?"

"That's your rationalization?"

"It's not rationalization … just reality. If Lady Croft had not broken this sad truth to you, your life would have gone on and your chosen lifestyle would be unaffected. Is that not so? But when you found out the truth of their existence, you had to discover more to the story, didn't you? You had to build on what little you then knew. No matter the eventual cost it would take upon your heart and soul."

"Me wanting to know the 'truth' is *"

"*This has nothing to do with 'truth', my Dear. You have been a Slayer for close to 10-years, correct?"

Buffy reluctantly nodded.

"In that time, I am certain; Fate would have placed you and your Lover to proximity to one another. And yet you never acted on this impulse. And believe me girl, that is a good thing. So why torture yourself now?"

"What do you care whether I torture myself." She nearly screamed out. "I had a right to know. We're speaking about the love-of-my-life here!"

"*LOVE?! Ha!" He barked out cruelly. "Love, my dear girl, terrifies you. Love terrifies all Slayers'. It terrifies them because they can't characterize it."

"That's not true. I know what love is!"

"Really? If that was indeed so then why hadn't you and your Lover … what's that term? 'Hooked Up', yet? Hmmm? If you were indeed truly in-touch with your feelings and emotions and not focused on some adolescent 'image' of what love is, we wouldn't be even having this discussion now, would we?"

Buffy's mouth formed a firm line.

"Love, is beyond the understanding of Slayer's. Hunting … fighting … killing, is what you know. Romantic-Love? Your understanding of that emotion is akin to that of a childish perception of it. If it was truly something you were capable of understanding then it wouldn't be the 'key' for the Slayer Spirit's release, would it?

"If they are handsome, rich, or they appeal to some 'bad-boy' need within you, yes, they become the focal point of your interest. But anything else? Anything 'Real'? Slayers, my Girl, have Affair's … encounter's … but these indulgences are generally nothing they could not walk away from at a moment's notice if they had need too. The *truth* is, my Dear, that if given a choice … you and every other Slayer … would avoid true intimacy. And it is this avoidance that marks you as a coward of the Heart."

"COWARD!?" Buffy could no longer hold her tongue. "How can you call me that? Do you know how many times I went into fights with the expectation that I might not even make it out alive? How dare you call me a coward!"

"Oh yes, with the 'Big Things', yes … you are quite formidable and courageous … but with the things that you have professed to me and Rupert that truly matter to you … with those? With those you have quitter written all over your face."

"That's not true!"

"It is true." The old man answered firmly and very matter-of-factly.

"NO, IT'S NOT."

The old man scoffed at the denial. "I wager to guess that with every male you have ever tried to ensnare within your loins that you have put on a front with. Pretending to be someone that you think they would respond better too."

"See … there you are! You're one-hundred-percent wrong. That's a complete lie." She answered angrily, even though inwardly she had to admit that there was some degree of accuracy to the claim. But didn't all people who dated do that? At first anyway? They keep the worst things about themselves hidden and only emphasise the good or the positive stuff. The things they thought the other person would like. Keeping all the dark-and-dangerous things secret until the other person had gotten to know them better. Only then did they let the cat-out-of-the-bag with all the bad habits and the … err … Slaying of Vampires and the killing of Demons and all the other things that went bump-in-the-night.

Archer Snr proceeded to sit down in his chair, ignoring the Slayer's rebuff. "Your life is a complete sham, my dear."

"Say another word and 100 or not, I'm gonna make you swallow you own false teeth. I swear." Buffy announced staring dagger's at the old man.

Rupert Giles Mentor, however, was unaffected by the threat, in fact he offered her a small smile. He slowly inhaled and as he expelled he whispered out eight words that seemed to dominate the entire room. "What. Where. How and Why. But no 'Who'."

Buffy's face recoiled in confusion. "Huh?"

"In the last 20-minutes, my Dear, I and Rupert have educated you on all those four questions. But there is one you have not once asked whilst I have been in your presence. And I daresay, given that both myself and Rupert have confirmed 'The Lovers' existence to you, the fact you have not asked it I find very … suspicious. Now, the reason I suspect you haven't asked either of us this question is because you already know … or at least … you already *believe* you know the answer to it, don't you? You know the answer, but you're too afraid to ask the question because Rupert might just affirm your darkest fears … or possibly … your deepest hopes. And if he does this, regardless to the name he imparts, your entire world would then collapse and fall apart on itself. Because you would be consumed with the eternal question relating to 'Road's not travelled'."

The Slayer's eyes widened in fear at being found out so seemingly easily by the old-man.

"See, my Girl. You. Are. A. Coward." He enunciated.

Silence once more dominated the room again between both adversaries, until the Slayer spoke up. She felt like the little girl that Archer was claiming she was.

"I … I don't know. The … my 'Lover'. I'm not certain. I think … I believe I know who he is. But I'm not sure. Not entirely." Buffy then squirmed in her chair, not knowing exactly why she felt a need to confide this information to a man who she didn't know. Maybe it was *because* she didn't know him that made this whole 'spilling-of-the-guts' an easy thing for her.

"When Croft was going through the whole 'True-Love' thing with me … I started to get this massive migraine headache. Now I've had headaches before, but it was nothing like this. It felt like my brain was inflating and trying to bash its way out of my skull. Then she started to talking about the Curse and other Slayer's and as she did the whole thing with my head just got worse and worse. But in the middle of all her words, her theories, the … the relief between the pounding pain in my brain … I had a moment of, I dunno, clarity I guess. A clarity where everything she was saying started to make a bit of sad and silly sense to me. It was like a curtain was being drawn back, kinda like from one of those tacky Game Show's that would conceal some Grand Prize from the contestant's. But instead of winning a brand-new-car I was being shown something much more precious. And suddenly 'he' was there. Right there, dead centre in the middle of my thoughts. Just like he has always been, I guess. Like he never really left them. And just like that the pain … the pounding … the headache … it … it all just stopped. And everything … everything Croft was saying … it all just fell into place for me like some surreal jigsaw."

Buffy took a small moment to compose herself before she added any words further, her eyes on the brink of watering. "I always knew he was a good guy … strike that, he is a great guy. No, strike even that … he was the 'Perfect-Guy'. Perfect for me in nearly every detail. But I never saw it. Not like I do now."

Buffy then offered a small and sad laugh at her own blindness as her shoulder's sagged. "Here I am, Buffy-love-Lorne, always harping on about wanting to be with a 'Great Guy', and there he was right beside me … I just didn't see it … I mean I *did* see it, I just *couldn't* see it. But *he* did. He saw 'me' right from the very beginning. He saw me as everything he wanted in this life and what did I do? I used to use that crush to my advantage … I got him to do whatever I wanted him to do whenever I wanted him to do it. I flirted with him, teased him. With no intentions of ever actually going through with it. It was just playful-coyful-banter. At least for me. For him? If he didn't think I was some kind of … well, some word that's really not all that nice, I'd be surprised.

"I played with his heart and his feeling for me just because it gave me a kick to do so. His girlfriend's all spited me because they knew the kind of power I had over him. And they were never shy of saying so either. I just saw it as a bit of an ego-boost. Not once did I ever really think what this kinda thing was doing to him. Sure, there were a few moments when I thought 'maybe', and 'how-bad-could-it-be-if-we-did?' But something always ended up getting in the way. But if I had known about Lover's … I … I just wished I had had the good sense back then …" She trailed off.

With a true sense of sympathy in his tone the old man responded. "You should not rebuke yourself, my dear. But rather you should instead thank the heavens for your blindness and insensitivity to this person. Because if you had 'seen him', as you put it, then it would not have ended well for either of you."

She knew Giles had forbidden any further questioning about the Lover's until he had returned. But she also knew that Giles would most likely sanitise everything for her benefit. And as much as she had grown to resent Mr Archer's bluntness, the fact that he spoke his mind … on several occasions thus far, and didn't mince words … well, she needed that raw-honesty. She didn't want to be coddled.

Buffy turned her chair to square off with the old man, her features becoming sharp … all sense of self-pity and misery momentarily lost from her features. If she was going to do this, then she needed to do it now. She didn't want Giles to be here to offer her the 'watered-down' version.

"Okay, Reggie. That's like the third time today I have heard something like that spoken to me. What's the deal? You have, like, thousand's of Slayer's now. What's one less? One who has definitely put in her time with the Slayage and who I think deserves a 'Fairy Tale' ending."

Reginald Archer Snr studied the slayer beside him for a moment. He wasn't anyone's fool. He knew that Buffy was trying to goad him into breaching Giles Instructions to put the discussion of 'The Lovers' on hold until he returned. But since when has he ever followed Rupert's advice? The aged Watcher leaned nearer to the young woman. "There are no 'Fairy Tale' ending for you child, not if you wish to pursue this to its end. And if you truly believe you know the identity of your Lover then take my advice and avoid him … avoid him like the plague. If he is on one side of the planet, then you make every effort to be on the other side. Understand?"

Buffy mumbled out under her breath. "He kinda already is."

"Sorry?"

"I mean … Why? Why is this a big deal for you people?"

Archer Snr. exhaled dramatically before he answered. "If you wish to know the origin of our current caution, well, for that I guess you should look to your fellow country man, and frontier 'Hero': 'Buffalo Bill'."

"Huh?"

"William Fredrick Cody, aka: Buffalo Bill."

"Yeah, heard of him … not a big fan. But what does he have to do with any of this?"

"Well, in his later years he decided to take advantage of his reputation and got caught up with one of those Travelling Spectacles emphasising the Wild, Wild West lifestyle. With other various celebrities of that time and region. Calamity Jane, Chief Sitting Bull, just to name a few. It was called 'The Buffalo Bill Wild West Show'. Not exactly the most original title, is it? It was pure Frontier tripe. Tripe that toured most of the major American Cities and way back in 1887 eventually made a journey from the Colonies all the way across the pond to old London-Town. All in order educate and entertain the English Masses to what real 'frontier life' was like back in the good old U.S. of A.

"It was, more or less, Ms Summer's, a Travelling Circus. With exaggerated acts of horseback riding with whooping and hollering and gunfire. All fronted by a man whose only true claim to fame was that he had shot and killed thousands of poor dossal bovines for the newly expanding American Railway System."

"Again, what does that have to do with Slayer's and Lover's? Wait … hang on, are you telling me that Buffalo Bill was a Lover?"

"Oh God no! But it just so happened that in his travelling troupe there was a collection of Native American Indians. Members of the Sioux, Cheyenne and Pawnee Nation's. Authentic 'Injuns' that the slack jawed idiots back then could gawk and point at for half a tuppence. Genuine and authentic Medicine Men, my Dear."

"So?" Buffy asked curiously

"So?" Archer shock his head in disappointment. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprise … Rupert was obviously a far better student then he ever was a teacher.

"Ms Summer's, Native American sorcery works significantly different to European and Asian based magic and spells. Whereas we European and those of Asian magic are principally physical in-nature, Native American Magic is more … inverted and spiritual."

"Huh?"

Reginald sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "European and Asian Magic 'projects'. Native American 'reflects'."

"Oh … Oh! I think I get what you mean … you mean European Magic is more fireballs and levitation … the physical world stuff and Indian Magic is like, more dreams and spirit walking? Like with all that Spirit Animal Guide stuff, right?"

"Yes, to a tiny degree you are very much correct. But it is also so much more."

"No … no, I get it. I do. Me and Giles did the whole 'Spirit-thing' together a few years ago."

"Oh? Well, good … so you obviously know basics then."

Reginald looked to the clock on the far wall and made a hasty estimation of the time remaining to Rupert return.

"At any rate, there was a Researcher who was eager to make a name for himself within the Organisation and who saw the arrival of this travelling circus as an opportunity to do just that. Up until that time, no-one had ever documented or recorded the Indian's perception or understanding of 'Magic'. Native American Indian's had always been chronicled by bias journalists of that time as being 'Savages' and Primitives. But Winthrop Kane thought differently. In them he saw a quiet and ancient pride. With him making comparison's to our own Druidic Faith's of old. Magic that stemmed from nature and was part of the unseeing tapestry that we call 'life'. An 'honest' magic that could not be perverted or warped and that was both revered and honoured. Winthrop thought that in introducing their 'World' to the Archive of the Watcher's Council that it would help secure a small place for him in our history books.

"At any rate, when this travesty of a side-show arrived in England, he bribed the Carnival's security with a single pound note. A princely sum back in those days. This gave him a full month of unfettered access to these so-called Medicine Men between 'shows'. He then used bottles of whiskey, or 'Fire-Water', to help loosen their tongues and reveal their culture's deepest secrets. And in the 4-weeks that followed he was successful in prying their jaws lose and earning their trust. And in so doing he gained the various fundamentals of doing … as you stated … spirit walks as well as a few soul-chants and incantations."

"Okay … So what happened?" Buffy asked cautiously.

"Well, he was successful, Ms Summer's. That's what happened. In introducing a new form of Magic to the Council Archives it helped elevate his standing in the Organisation. His star was, as they say, on the rise. He had become noticed by those senior in the Order. So much so that when the next English Slayer was called … Abigail I think her name was … a Whitechapel street urchin … he was informed that he was to be her 'Guardian'.

"But alas, according to his Journal Entries things did not go as smoothly as he had anticipated. She really didn't take to him too well. She proved to be quite wilful and dismissive of his attempts to provide her guidance and give her instruction … I'm certain you know the sort."

Buffy rolled her eyes at the obvious slight being made to herself.

"She refused to listen to any of his directions, and she would not participate in any of the lesson plans he had mapped out for her. And who could really blame her? He really didn't have much of a 'physical presence' or bearing. Based on the portrait that was done of him back then, one that was destroyed with the destruction of the old Building, he looked more like a middle-age book-keeper who had been passed over for advancement for the 20th time in a row."

Buffy released a small chuckle as she tried to imagine what such a man may have looked like.

"Yes, you might well laugh, my dear. When you hear the name Winthrop Kane, it promotes images in your mind of a chiselled jaw, wavy-haired, barrel-chested man's-man. As I said, I've seen portraits of the gentleman … and believe you me, dear girl, he could get easily lost in a crowd of one. The term 'pitiable' was created just for him. All Abigail wanted to do was to be left to her own devices and do things 'her way'. Watcher Kane, fearing that the Council may 're-think' their choice of him as her Watcher, well, he had to get creative in managing her. As you know, the role of a Watcher is not just to oversee a Slayer's activities and provide her with support. They are also obligated to provide them with an education. And apparently, according to Winthrop, Abigail was in desperate need of one."

Buffy couldn't help but smirk further at the depreciating image in her mind of this Winthrop Kane person and then wondered how she and Giles relationship might have been if she too was unable to respect him just as this Abigail-girl had done with her Watcher? For one, she guessed, she probably would have ended up dead a great deal sooner.

"Okay, so I'm guessing he used that whole 'Spirit-Walking' thing with her, right?"

"Very perceptive, young lady."

Buffy shrugged her shoulders. "I have my moments."

"Yes, well, there may be hope for you yet. And you are correct. The two came to a compromise of sorts. Winthrop bargained with her that he would give her some 'space' during the day and with her evening Patrol's. But at night, when she was asleep, he would enter her 'dream-state' and provide her with the appropriate education on Demon Lore and the like. Point in fact, Kane, very much felt that he was the one getting the better end of the bargain. As one-second of dreaming is the equivalent of nearly several hours of waking thought. Winthrop felt that if he was able to secure a month's worth of solid subconscious-education it would be on par with possibly her receiving several years of consistent tutelage."

"Kinda creepy, if you ask me. I mean, I trusted Giles. Had for years before he did his first walk through my subconscious mind with me. But this girl? By the sounds of it, she hated her Watcher right from the get go."

"There are always clashes of personalities in the beginning of any formally established relationship. I am certain you probably had one or two squabbles with Rupert in the beginning that you have now conveniently forgotten because they were so trivial. But Abigail stayed the course with the pact she struck, as did Watcher Kane. And within a short period of time she started to exceed all expectations. The Higher-Ups were indeed pleased, and there was some discussion that this would become a standard training tool. Then one-day during one of their dream-sessions, Watcher Kane observed something in the periphery of her dream-scape. A looming and feral like creature."

"The First Slayer." Buffy answered matter-of-factly, as though she didn't even need to guess at its identity.

"Yes, we know this now because of your own experience several years ago. But back then, Winthrop was unable to identify it clearly. He was not even able to make it out as even human … at first. He just described it as unkempt and primitive looking. That it may have been a manifestation of Abigail's subconscious. Being a curious fellow, he saw this as another opportunity to have his name spoken with other compliments within the Council walls. And possibly even fast-tracking himself further to becoming the youngest member ever to be promoted to the High Council. Feeling that Abigail had benefited enough from his 'lessons' for the time-being, he turned his attention to this … 'unknown'. He theorised that this creature was a representation of all of Abigail's insecurities."

"So what happened?"

"Nothing. Not at first anyway." Archer Senior removed his glasses to offer them an unnecessary polish. "It took a week of various urgings on his part to get 'it' to approach him."

"Really? How did he manage that?"

"Well, he approached the problem like it was some wild animal. Now, Ms Summer's, if you were trying to coax a cautious wild creature into approaching you, how would you go about it?"

"Dunno."

"Think, young lady. Example: You have a skittish dog in front of you, how would you get it to trust you and approach?"

Buffy's brow scrunched as she pondered the question. "Maybe, I guess, offer it a meat snack or something?"

"YES! Absolutely right. And that's exactly what he did!"

"He offered the First Slayer a meat-snack?"

"No, no. Remember, he is in Abigail's subconscious. He is a 'visitor'. Creating anything like that without the co-operation of Abigail … their Host … would have been next to impossible, especially something with complex flavours. So he started to experiment, hoping that his prolonged presence in his Slayer's subconscious would give him some foothold in manipulating such a thing. Eventually he was able to create a very subtle, simple and mild course of food. One that he was able to draw from his own psyche into Abigail's. Offering a form and flavouring that was neither complicated nor complex. He then attentively offered it to 'the creature'. And to his amazement she accepted. Not only did she accept it, but according to his Diary's remarks she apparently loved it."

"Okay, curious now. What food did he conjure up?"

A wispy smile spread over the Watcher's lips as he answered. "Of all things, it was cheese."

At hearing this, Buffy, nearly slid out of her leather chair in shock. "Ch… cheese? Like the Cheese-Guy, cheese? Are you saying that Kane was the Cheese-Guy?!"

"Who? Sorry, what are you rambling about girl?"

Buffy fought hard to control the excitement in her voice. It was clear that Archer Snr was not 'in-the-know' about the Scoobies earlier experience with the freaky 'Cheese-Man' of their fevered dream with the First, six-years earlier.

"Y'know … The Cheese-Guy! When we had all that weird-freaky-deaky-dream with the First-Slayer hunting us. Right after we did the joining-spell, there was a Cheese-Guy who showed up in them. He did these 5-second cameos, not only in my dream, but in Giles, Willow and Xander's. And he kept offering us a platter of various cheeses. You mean that … that … scarecrow-like-weirdo was Kane?"

Reginald shrugged. "Well, it's possible that there may be some remanent-memory of Kane still in place with the First Slayer. After all, he was quite possibly it's first 'friend' in several millennia and as such it wouldn't be surprising if her memory of him had piggy-backed its way into your own subconscious when her spirit joined with yours. But I assure you, his relationship with her was entirely professional in nature. Kane just wanted to have an understanding of what this 'figure' was. And as I stated, he believed the 'First' was some dark and undisciplined aspect of his own Slayer. Not the very First Slayer, I mean if he knew that then I dare say he would have been ecstatic towards the research possibilities this now offered him."

Buffy leaned forward, she doubted she was ever more interested in anything in her life then she was right now. "So what happened?"

"According to his Journal's, nothing much. 'It', after all, didn't understand English. Winthrop, spent most of his time trying to communicate with it using drawings he did in the sand. Or using some very primitive charades. Trying to show her the 'A, B, C's. He eventually made some head-way with communication … or at least with the 'trusting' side of it all.

"Sadly, his interest in the First became all consuming and it started to dominate his every waking moment and thought. He would write page after page, detailing his experiences with it and conjecturing theories. And unfortunately, Abigail started to become neglected as a result of this."

"I would have thought she'd have preferred it that way?" Buffy asked.

"Yes, well, unfortunately a Watcher can never allow their attention to wander far from their Charge. Eventually, Abigail's eye fell upon a fresh-faced Bobby who had been newly stationed to a Precinct on her Patrol Route."

"Bobby?"

"Constable, my dear."

"Oh."

"Most Lovers', my dear girl, have a leaning towards the Law and Order profession. Or some other vocation that requires the protection of the community."

"Like the White-Knight Guy? And that Daniel Hotz fella? He was a soldier, wasn't he?"

"Yes, and both were responsible in maintaining the Peace, and in Protecting others."

An old memory suddenly rose-up in Buffy's mind. "Would, I don't know, 'Prison Guard' also fall into something like that?" Buffy asked, remembering Xander's career-aptitude result eight years earlier. Back then she had been told her ideal career choice was to join the embarrassingly lack-lustre Sunnydale Police Force. Even now, looking back on that moment she was amazed at how close both of their career selections had been. Especially as the Aptitude Test was easily a three-hundred question test. One or two more 'True' answers, as opposed to 'False' and she and Xander could have found themselves with the same result. That also applied if she had answered 'c' a few more times instead of 'a', 'b' or 'd'.

Archer Senior pondered that question for a moment. "Yes. In fact, being a Prison Guard would probably be a well-suited profession for them. As it is one not entirely driven to 'solving' crimes or capturing evil doers. But rather it is a career designed to carry out and ensure the administration of Justice upon the guilty party."

Buffy nodded unknowingly, if there was one thing that defined Xander to a 'tee' in her humble opinion it was that he was all about Justice. Another annoying box ticked, then. Buffy then shock her head clear, wishing to move on before Giles ended up walking through his Office door and spoiling their momentum. "So…. Um … Abigail and her lover? What happened there?" She asked.

"By the time Winthrop was aware of the Lover's existence, Abigail, was well and truly besotted. As you know, the Council had decided nearly 50-years earlier to make the Watcher solely responsible for their Charge. And in that they would be totally accountable if a Slayer was 'lost' to a Lover or not. As I had stated, Winthrop Kane, was hardly an imposing gentleman and Abigail had little or no respect for him as her Guardian. He doubted he could intimidate or convince either his Slayer or her Lover in concluding their courtship. And he was fearful what damage would be done to his reputation if he had to go scurrying to the Council and have them address this issue on his behalf. He believed if he had to go down that road, then they would most likely determine him unfit or incapable of exercising the full duties of Abigail's Watcher and get another reassigned to her. Any future thoughts of advancement forever lost to him."

"So what did he do?"

"Well, because he believed that the 'First' he had been communicating with was an aspect of Abigail's personality, he decided to try and offer 'her' a reason to cancelling its association with the young man. For three-nights straight, Kane, entered Abigail's dreams under the pretext that he was subliminally educating her. But instead of doing so he was using those many, many hours convincing 'The First' of the genuine threat and danger associated to The Lover's.

"Now there have been indeed accounts prior to this misadventure when a Slayer has met their Lover and through the overwhelming manipulations of the Slayer Spirit she has been dissuaded from taking that association further. This however was the first time that an effort was made to permit this … wraith-like-Spirit the opportunity to venture into the 'physical' world."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Ms Summer's, prior to this time, the Council, had never utilised any form of alternative magic that even came close to resembling Native American Spirit Sorcery. We never utilised it because we didn't know it even existed, as you already know we are somewhat 'traditional'. But now we had access to a variation of magic we had never previous considered ever existed. Not only that, but coincidently, Winthrop was deemed an expert in the whole process.

"Watcher Kane, believed that if he was able to convince 'Abigail's-Darker-Self' that the Lover's were evil and dangerous, just as he himself had been instructed at the Council Cloister's, then he would have an ally to change the present event. Not only present event's but also use this as a tool for future Slayer's as well. No longer would future Watcher's be fearful of 'dropping-the-ball'. Upon a Girl's calling, she would receive a bit of skull-time when she was all beddy-byes, and suddenly the Slayer could now start to police herself where it came to Lover's. The man was a genius. Decades ahead of his time, possibly even centuries. But much like Oppenheimer who later regretted ever creating the Atomic Bomb, Watcher Kane too would later regret his interference into this matter."

"How do you mean?"

"According to his pages, it didn't take much convincing for 'it' to believe Winthrop's words that Lover's were the creation of Dark Forces. He was also able to correctly use a chant that had been passed on to him by one of the Indian's he had met a couple of years before. A chant that would temporarily give Abigail's 'Dream-Self' a small window of opportunity to lay claim over her body and to perhaps scare the Lover away. Initially this chant was one that would be used to give people the opportunity to be periodically and completely disinhibbited to their thoughts and emotions. To act out without abandon. Watcher Kane, believing he had an 'ally', offered 'the First Slayer' the opportunity to take action on Abigail's behalf to scare her Lover away."

"So, I'm guessing it … 'worked', right?" Buffy asked cautiously, though there was an element of doubt in her own words.

"The Spell? Yes, yes it did. And the relationship between Watcher's and the Chosen Ones have never been the same after that."

Buffy stared at the old man, wanting him to continue. But just then, Giles re-entered the office. His face flushed. As though he had just sprinted up five flights of stairs. Both she and Archer's sudden silence and guilty expressions were enough to get them found out.

"Dear God … what has he told you?" The Head Watcher asked Buffy, not wanting to know the answer, but demanding it just the same.

Coming to the Slayer's rescue, Reginald's voice rose up to counter Giles demand. "I have told her exactly what you called me in to tell her."

Giles' face went from flushed to ghostly white. "And what exactly is that?" He then asked.

Buffy felt it was her turn to come to Reginald's rescue now. "He was telling me about Winthrop Kane, his Slayer and how he dealt with the Lover problem."

Giles gulped audibly, Buffy had never heard him gulp before. At least not loudly enough that it could be heard from across the room. She then watched him nervously make his way over to his chair, aware that his hands seemed to be trembling as he did so. As he strode across the room, Rupert Giles was delivering to the Ancient Watcher 'heat beams' from a glare that could roast a cow at a thousand yards. Once he sat down, he allowed his eyes to break away from his former mentor and focus once more on his former-Slayer instead. "So…."

"Good Lord, Man. Grow yourself a pair." Reginald answered in a disgusted tone. "We were about to tackle the 'possession'. Do you wish to take over? Or do you want me to continue?"

Giles fidgeted as he considered his options, then in a whispered voice he asked his former teacher to continue forward.

"Anyways, as I was saying, it was a success. A terrible success. Abigail and her lover met up with one another discreetly, as they seemed to often do. But this time, Abigail was now resigned to take their interlude … *ahem* … further. A great deal further then just holding one another's hands and staring longingly into each others faces. That was the trigger, you see Ms Summer's. Winthrop had connected the 'First's escape to that of Abigail's own carnal desire."

"Excuse me?!" Buffy shrilled out.

"It was genius, really." Archer continued, as though he had not heard the Slayer's startled reaction. "Winthrop didn't see the need to pre-empt the ordeal, in fact he had made Abigail's own powerful emotion complicit to that which would follow. He had instigated a 'safeguard', one that would be automatically initiated when all her pent-up passions were about to be released. He chose to make her Lust the very key to give the First its 'freedom'."

"I … I … don't understand."

"To put it simply my Girl, Winthrop, utilised a stratagem very much akin to how many weak-willed-people these days use hypnosis to help curb their cravings for cigarettes, alcohol or sweet food … just to name a few. The hypnotist implants a suggestion in the recipient's mind so that whenever they have a pleasant impulse relating to either of those things, what transpires with their perceptions then manifests into something completely opposite to that of pleasure or desire …*"

Giles voice stressed itself to exertion at how casual his former Teacher was explaining this travesty of an explanation. "**How can you possibly compare the two? One is an invitation by the individual, and the other was a … a violation by her very own Watcher!"

"I'm not comparing, just explaining the fundamentals of it all to the young woman." Archer then gestured to Buffy, before continuing. Unaffected by his former student's cristism. "The wall of rational thought you see, Ms Summer's, had to collapse. Collapse just enough so that the 'First' could temporarily take over her body without Abigail being even aware that such an unorthodox assault was being initiated. Slayer's, do after all, have quite the tolerance to having their minds either tempered with or taken-over. And what better timing for something like this to happen than when a person's mind is keenly distracted with lustful fantasies?"

"But … but I've had sex … I have been in the midst of some pretty lustful moments. Plenty of them. But nothing has ever happened to me. I've never lost myself to the whole desire-thing … well, not really. I've always been able to be 100-percent Buffy."

"You have to remember, my dear, that the First Slayer, lives in your subconscious. There is not a single dark corner of it that it has not ventured into or seen. It would know better then anyone who you could and would trust whole-heartedly with all that you are and wish to be. The ones who curls-your-toes and who you just want a bit of slap-and-tickle-fun with. It doesn't care about dalliances. It cares about that which threatens the status quo of it's pact with you. Everything else is below its notice."

"But that type of stuff is personal. Does the First really have that kind of access?"

"Of coarse it does your silly girl. Look, I certainly cannot speak for woman-folk everywhere when it comes to such things, especially where the subject of sex and passion is involved. But for us men … well, in those circumstances the 'little head' generally takes control and the rest of the body just goes with the flow of it all. During these heated moment's *our* I.Q. is significantly lessened."

"Yeah, well, it's also pretty much the same for us girl's as well." Buffy averted her eyes to the carpet as she said this. She didn't need to look up to know that both Watchers' were scrutinizing her answer like it was the greatest solved mystery of all time. "So is that what went down? The First took over and then scared her Lover to leave town?"

Even as Buffy asked the question, she knew it was untrue. The previous day, Croft, had established that on occasion Slayer's had killed their Lover's. But still, she needed to hear it here. She needed actual Watcher's to confirm her fears. And what's more she needed to know if Dawn's theory about Faith being Xander's 'Chosen' was on the money. Because if it was, then how was it she believed, to the very fibre of her being, that it was in fact her?"

Giles softly broke in to the discussion. "No, Buffy. The First treated the Lover as a threat. A threat that it had been a victim of by way of hundred's of previous Host's. But this time? This time, thanks to Kane's spiritual-handiwork, the First now had the means of temporarily confronting that 'threat' head-on within the physical plane instead of playing the role of a voyeur. This time, and for the first-time in possibly a thousand Slayer-incarnations, the First had the chance to possess an actual body and confront that 'danger' head-on."

The blonde Slayer nodded. Here was the question, and to emphasis its weight she looked up once more and stared into her former Watcher eyes. "What happened to them?"

Giles, made one last plea for Buffy to abandon this Quest for answers. But all Buffy heard were Archer's earlier words rattle in her brain. 'Abandon all hope ye who enter here'. Taking a deep breath she asked the question again. "What happened, Giles?"

Reginald croaked out a response, sparing Giles any further indignity of offering the explanation.

"Abigail had by this stage reached the point in her relationship with the young Constable where Eros was looking down upon her from above. It was a point where she was most eager to take the next step in their Affair with one another into the 'physical'. She led him to a locale … a former 'nest' that she had cleared four-days earlier and one that offered a certain … gothic and romantic appeal to her planned interlude with the young man. Vampires after all do have certain … flair … with their decorations. Not only that, but the former-Nest also was a place of security and privacy. As many of its neighbour's, thanks to the former-resident's, had all disappeared. They would be as secluded from the world as they could possibly be. Almost as soon as they had both walked across the threshold, she began stripping herself naked and then assisted in disrobing him for the pleasures that was to await them both in a matter of seconds.

"The poor child probably did not even notice the 'shift' take place; her attention would have been well and truly consumed with other carnal thoughts and deeds. It would be during the height of this distraction that Kane's implanted 'release-spell' would be enacted within her mind. Abigail's consciousness was then relegated deep into her own mind and the First Slayer would have then been given a brief interlude in which it could take physical command of her body. Like a Puppeteer manipulating the movements of the poor girl. Even to the point of being able to communicate with its prey so that the poor soul was even unaware that anything was even out of the ordinary themselves.

"The vague accounting of Abigail of the incident was such: 'She', The First, straddled the naked young man, positioning herself on-top of him. A very enticing manoeuvre you might agree. The young Lover was unaware that what was actually happening was he was being placed in a position that would rob him of any chance to gain leverage to aid him to providing a defence to the forthcoming assault. Like a female-lover she was pretending to be, she combed her fingers through his hair and playfully manipulating her motions until her hands eventually found themselves playfully flowing down his cheeks and then wrapping themselves around her Lover's throat. Once they had found its true destination 'Abigail' commenced choking the very life out of him."

Again the Slayer nodded. Exactly like what Faith tried to do to Xander, she thought.

Reginald continued not noticing the far-away-look in Buffy's eyes. "There is no method of murder more personal then that of bare-handed strangulation, my dear. In this simple act, you are able to force your prey to look upon you, making you the last thing they will ever see as they leave this world. There is a Power to such a thing. To make your enemy look upon you and them knowing that it is you and you alone who are the instigator of their pre-mature demise.

"You also experience the tactile sensation of feeling that very life, the life you are claiming, slowly diminish. Your hands feeling the last choking breath rise up in the throat as they struggle to free themselves from your grasp. All the way to the slumping of a body when 'live' weight becomes 'dead' weight. For a being whose entire existence has been linked to death, for it to experience that sensation, even as brief as it was, it allowed the First Slayer to feel powerful once more and once again whole."

Buffy couldn't offer a reply. Her throat constricted with emotion. So much of her wanted to flee this room at that second, but her legs felt like jelly and she doubted she would have been able to support her own weight if she indeed tried to do so.

"But it didn't end with his death … there was more."

"More?" Buffy asked, surprised that she was able to croak out the question to the old man. "What more could she do to him? Wasn't killing him enough?"

Giles steepled his finger's together. "Buffy, the First viewed the Lover as a threat. It always has, even prior to Kane's foolish and near-sighted manipulations. In its limited understanding, the Lover was the only thing capable of vanquishing it. For it, death through battle was an honourable means of exiting a Host Body. All warriors accept this fate as their lot in this world. If they are to fall to another in combat then that death would have been a worthy one well received. But the means in which the Lover took their victory? In the First Slayer's eyes, such a thing was … well, it was contemptuous and insulting to the Warrior that it saw itself as being.

"Unfortunately, it was unable to make the connection between Love and it's separation from their Host to that of a new one. The First Slayer, you have to understand, came from a primitive culture and time, Buffy. A society where love was still being … defined. What it understood was 'the physical', not the emotional. Its understanding of 'why' it would transfer from one Host to another would have been quite vague and confusing. For the First Slayer, there was only one true consistency. It perceived that the danger a Lover posed, not in their Heart or emotions that they were able to stir within the Chosen One but rather in the way and means that were used to expel it from the old body into a new one."

Buffy's brow crunched as she tried to decipher Giles long-winded explanation. She really wished she had Willow's smarts right about now. "Huh?"

"The boy's Sausage-and-Potatoes, my Girl." The aged Watcher answered for her. "The Spirit could not make the distinction. A threat is a threat … is a threat. She … how can I explain this … err … she 'removed' that which offended and threatened her … or rather what she believed threatened it's vessel. Much like in ancient law, you sever the hand that is raised against you. In this case, the Slayer …*"

"NO! She didn't … she couldn't … she *"

"* She did, Buffy. With Abigail's consciousness trapped and aware of the actions that were taking place upon her Lover and without any means of stopping herself. The first Slayer, using its superior strength, tore off from the still warm body of the now dead lover his genitalia. She removed his sex, Buffy. Desecrating his body in the most obscene fashion."

"Oh my God, I think I'm gonna be sick."

"It gets worse child."

"How the Hell could it get worse then that?!" Buffy snapped out. In her mind's eye all she could do was imagine what Faith might have ultimately done to Xander if Angel hadn't shown up in time to render her unconscious and rescue him from that sleazy hotel room.

Reginald Archer looked to Giles to see if he would butt in … he didn't. With a deep sigh, he continued. "It is not an uncommon practice that ancient and old cultures would look upon the virtues of certain organs. They believed that in taking these organs into themselves that they were being bequeathed certain properties. Powers and immunities that they believed were attributed to that organ. Muscle for strength. Heart for long-life …*"

"*Wh … what are you saying? WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?" Buffy screamed out, her voice stressed with fear and disgust towards the awaiting answer.

"Cannibalism … *"

"*Ca … CANNIBALISM!" The blonde Slayer interrupted. Her entire body trembling. "Are you saying that she ate his … his …*"

"Cannibalism …" Giles continued. "… Has been around since the dawn of time, Buffy. It is abhorrent, this is true and I completely agree with your outrage. But even in these enlightened days it is far from an oddity. Yes, motives for such may differ, but desperation as well as other psychological or rather homicidal drives still prevail. Some Mountain Tribes in Papua New Guinea are reported to still practice this 'tradition'. There is barely a year go by where somewhere in the world there is a single headline outlining that someone had confessed to doing such things. Serial Killer Jeffery Dahmer stated he engaged in this practice as he saw it as the ultimate expression of power over his victims. That they would forever be part of him and never 'leave' him. In 1972, a Chilean Soccer Team whose plane crashed in the Andes survived by having to make this obscene sacrifice of devouring their Team-mates who had perished in the crash in-order to live long enough to be found. During World War Two, residents of Leningrad who were subjected to deplorable conditions found themselves …*"

"Okay … I get the idea. Please don't fill my head with these images."

"I'm sorry. These, Buffy, are chilling examples to be sure. And I wish they had never happened, but sadly, we will never be a stranger to these types of obscenities. With regards to the First Slayer, and without absolving her of her actions, she possibly saw this vulgar gesture not as a gruesome perversity but rather a means of delivering to her Host a type of 'immunity' to the power of the male sex.

"In consuming what she had wrenched from that poor dead boy, she believed she was strengthening and offering her Host the freedom to continue their spiritual partnership uninterrupted. And that by … devouring her Lover's … 'companion' … that she was making Abigail resistant to its influences in the future."

Buffy felt genuinely nauseous. Like she could almost taste raw human flesh in her own mouth. "And how did Abigail feel about that, huh?" Buffy asked her breathing becoming jaggered. Her imagination now swimming with the image of Faith crouched over Xander's naked and dead form, the raven-haired Slayer's mouth dripping with excess blood as she chewed down on something she rather not want to think about further.

"Just as you would expect she would, my girl. It drove her over the edge of course. Just as the First Slayer started to retreat and regress back into her consciousness. Where it rightfully belonged, it left poor Abigail trying to come to terms with the crime and offence she had just perpetrated upon her young suitor. Unable to understand the rationale for her own actions. The greatest and most offensive crime imaginable against the man she was about to, ten-minutes earlier, all but offer herself too. A young virile man who she would have gleefully sacrificed her very life and soul for if he had but asked.

"A man who she was not only willing to offer her virtue to but possibly even one she gave thanks to God every night since she had met him. I daresay the poor dear still had the horrid aftertaste lingering in her mouth and the boy's blood drying upon her hands as she was finally drawn back into reality. Yet despite this shocking event, she still found in herself both the fortitude and common sense to make her way to the only safety she knew. Kane's residence." Reginald Archer Snr. answered.

"It took eight-full days for him to earn from her this dire-story. Her mind randomly sweeping in-and-out of madness and disassociation. One moment she would recall the sordid incident as though it had been a nightmare, a horror un-real and un-true. Then the next moment she would be revisited by this cruellest of memories and know that it was all real. After-which she would proceed to scream and rage against herself. On several occasions, even doing serious self-injury. If not for the Slayer's rapid healing ability she would have died a dozen times over."

"And Kane did nothing?" Buffy asked her face tense with anguish at the fate of her predecessor.

"Entering another's mind, Buffy, is not like walking through a door. The process, as you know, requires a level of co-operation. And unfortunately, Abigail was in no coherent state to offer him the permission he needed. And her sanity kept on drifting in-and-out. From memory, I believe it took a month *"

"* Six weeks, Rupert." Archer corrected his former student.

"Six-weeks, for her to have settled to a level that Kane deemed it safe enough for him to attempt such an intrusion. And by this stage … well … she had become well and truly deranged from the guilt and disgust she had for her self. She perceived herself as evil given female form and un-deserving of love or God's forgiveness. Winthrop documented this experience well, as it was the last time he ever dared enter her mind ever again. He described it as a kaleidoscope of madness. A veritable 'Alice in Wonderland' environment. He said that it took him days to rediscover the First again, but in reality it was most likely hours. Time moves more quickly in a person's dream-state then reality.

"He confronted it … quite courageous if I am to be honest, over what it had done to the Lover. Remember, Buffy, the First Slayer's understanding of English was quite limiting."

Buffy nodded, remembering just how much a word-smith, or lack there of, The First Slayer was. "Me, Tarzan. You, Jane."

"Err … yes, quite." Giles replied.

"Remember, My Girl." Archer interrupted. "Winthrop believed the First was also an aspect of Abigail's inner-persona … he thought that in 'healing' and being able to rationalise with it in her dream, that he was also able to repair her fractured psyche in the real world. That he would be able to 'mend' her."

Giles leaned forward, stealing the topic once more from his former teacher. "The First made it clear to Watcher Kane, that it saw what it had done to the Constable as a tribute to their pact. Something Kane, could not understand as he was unaware that the figure before him was the 'original' Slayer and not a demented aspect of Abigail's personality. It 'told' him that it was paying it's vessel a form of homage. That with her action's against the 'Lover' that what she was doing was strengthening, Abigail. Making her stronger. With its limited command of English it kept repeating … it kept repeating … umm … what did it keep telling Kane, old Chap?"

"Err … oh yes … 'Death is my gift.' Death is my Gift. Watcher Kane interpreted this comment to him as her telling him that killing the Lover was her gift to Abigail. It's gift to help make her strong and no longer vulnerable to the influences of 'Man'."

"Death is my gift?" Buffy whispered out. She had heard the First Slayer repeat that same crazy mantra over and over again, but she had always translated its meaning differently. Unconsciously, Buffy's, hands both raised placing one over the other upon her chest. An unknowing gesture of protection of her trembling heart. "What happened? What happened to Abigail? Did she get better? What happened?"

Reginald and Giles looked at one another. Giles was the one who chose to speak. "No, Buffy. She held onto her grief and despair tightly. Though she did demonstrate more acceptable behaviour in the wake in the months that followed, it still forever damaged her. Kane used various potions to keep her insanity at bay. Working tirelessly to maintain this fragile creature that poor Abigail had become off the Council's Radar and out of Bedlam.

"Even often taking the extreme action of venturing out with her on Patrol's when he thought her practically more fragile then on other nights. Before Winthrop, Watcher's and Elder's generally allowed their assorted Charges to do these things on their own. It is now, because of that, we Watcher's randomly go on Patrol with our Slayer's to help gauge their on-going mental state in the field."

"Are you saying all those years of you going on Patrol's with me was to keep an eye on whether or not my screws started to get loosen?"

Giles shrugged in reply. "Winthrop, now feeling an overwhelming obligation to the young woman and her fragile state took far more liberties with his role and care of her. Insisting that she move her bed into his room so that he could keep a closer eye on her for instance.

"But for the most part everything went … well. Unfortunately the potions he required her to consume to help starve off her madness were … pretty temperamental … often times they worked. But there were several instances when they did not have the impact they were supposed to have. Herbs are not universally consistent with their potency, some lack the same … punch."

"What happened then?"

"The stuff of legend's, my dear girl. The stuff of terrifying legends."

"What's that supposed to mean?" The diminutive Slayer asked with an edge. "What happened?"

"Buffy, you recall me once informing you several years back, when Faith started to stray; I told you that she was not the first Slayer who had ever succumbed to darkness. That there had been others. Abigail was the first. The first we ever had to 'manage' and deal with."

"Aside from losing her mind … which I totally get and understand by-the-way … what happened was … arrgh … what else did she do that was so bad?"

"Come-on, Girl. I know I've been teasing you on how 'blonde' you are, but surely you're cleaver enough to put the pieces together." The aged male asked. "1890's … Victorian London … Whitechapel … Even in America you would have heard of her. Goodness, she's known around the world."

Buffy blinked several times. Putting the pieces together and only coming up with one answer to what Reginald Archer was implying. "N…no. He was a guy. He was a man. Not a woman."

"Say's who? Scotland Yard? The Strand Newspaper? Jackie-Boy was thought of as a male because for people to think a female could be guilty of those atrocities was unthinkable."

"Jack the Ripper was a Slayer?!"

Giles leaned back in his large leather seat. "Yes, Buffy. Abigail was Jack the Ripper." He answered sombrely. "What similarities do all the victims share?"

"They were women."

"Yes, but they were also Prostitutes. Women who treated sex as casually as they did the quality of their clientele. For a young woman whose first foray into this practice … especially with a man she genuinely loved … and then having it all end up so terribly bad. The fact that these women sold their bodies to men they neither knew nor cared about, it inspired a dark hatred within her. A jealousy. A dark-desire for retribution against those that took such things for granted. In her eyes, these Maiden's of the Night did not appreciate how lucky they were, and yet this is what they chose to do with their lives. Most of these women were all found with their reproductive organs removed or hacked to the point of barely being able to be identified. Poor Abigail took out her self-loathing on these poor creatures."

"But … but …"

"Scotland Yard were warning all the Trick's up and down the street's to be wary and not to go with any Tom they didn't already know. Yet despite these warnings women were being found hacked and sliced. Why?"

"Because …" Buffy pondered aloud. "… Because they were being warned to stay away from strange men. Not strange women."

"Exactly. The various wounds upon the bodies were such that it caused a great deal of speculation in the ranks. Even the Coroner commented that the expertise required to inflict the wounds, especially at night under gas-light, could only be made by someone extremely skilled in anatomy. This gave birth to a dozen theories of Surgeon's and Butcher's being the Ripper. As a Slayer, my Girl, your night-vision is as keen as any Vampire … correct?"

"Yes. You know it is."

"And you could, with your eyes closed, be able to stab me directly in the kidneys without any bother. Am I right?"

"Yes. But how could she have done all this without being seen? Surely someone must have notice her running from the scene. Even if they were looking for a man, a girl covered in blood would have been a decent draw-card."

"Really?" Archer asked, and then answered. "Back then, my dear, housing in Victorian London was compact and tightly placed. One domicile next to another. Streets were narrow. More accustomed to Cart's and Carriages. Cars would not be actively introduced for a number of decades. The quickest way to navigate through London would not be upon the streets …"

"But upon the roof-tops." Buffy finished off.

"Exactly. Slayer's often traversed the rooftops, galloping across the spines of these homes and buildings in pursuit of Vampires and other Demon's. None on the street were even aware what was happening above them. Maybe the odd falling shingle, but nothing else. That was how she would make her escape from these crimes. No-one ever looked up in those days. Scotland Yard, the Whitechapel Boy's and Vigilantes would all be patrolling the streets and back alleys. Never even considering that the guilty party was skipping over roof tiles a dozen yards above their heads making her escape."

"This … this is incredible. One of the greatest mysteries in the World … the identity of Jack the Ripper … 'he' was an insane Slayer?" Buffy's face went slack, no expression. This was all too much to take in … EVERYTHING was too much.

"Watcher Kane did his best to keep her under control. Even sending false witness reports to the Police and Newspaper's. The 'Dear Boss' Letter? That was him. Doing his utmost to divert any investigation to that of a deranged male instead of an insane 19-year old girl. But eventually her crimes started to become far too tabloid for him to successfully distance the Council's attention from.

"Unfortunately with his many efforts to try and intervene and track down Abigail when she eluded him during Patrol's …. Well, these did not go unnoticed by the general and terrified populace. With many witnesses reporting a ferret like man skulking around the area's where these women were found … many giving a startling likeness of him to the Strand. As such, it became quite …. difficult for him to venture out at night any longer. I mean with the various Vigilantes roaming the street's, hunting down someone baring his resemblance … well, he could no longer continue in his efforts to cover-up for her anymore and he knew he needed fess up to the Council on Abigail's alter-ego. This was just before the infamous 'two-in-one-night' killing.

"The Council was very displeased with Watcher Kane when the truth eventually came out. And they immediately went into damage-control. Implementing one of their Senior Patron's and Member's, Sir Charles Warren, who was coincidently the Metropolitan Police Commissioner to try and clear up this god-awful mess. Warren was the very same man who appointed the famed Scotland Yard Inspector Fredrick Abberline to hunting down this killer. Of coarse that was before he knew that Jack was a Slayer. And now he had to completely discredit all the work he and his team had done. Warren had to call in a bucketful of favours and he was not allowed to give anyone any explanation to why that was. Evidence was destroyed. Paper's 'misfiled and lost'. Coincidently, Commissioner Warren ended up being asked to 'retire' from Service directly after the last Ripper Murder. Read into that what you may, but I suspect that someone high up in Parliament found out he had perverted the Investigation. Probably someone informed by Abberline who felt jilted by the whole affair and that he had been mad a scapegoat by the Commissioner for failing to capture The Ripper. Wishing to avoid a scandal they gave him the opportunity to bow out with full privileges and pension. As neat a solution as could be made at the time.

"Many Rippologist's, as they are now-a-day's called, have long speculated that there was someone in seniority preventing the identity of Jack ever coming out and that a Secret Society had been involved in 'protecting' the Ripper from ever being known or finding Justice … many have always pointed the finger at the 'Free Masons'. But this is only because Warren had laid the bread crumbs leading straight to their door. Never enough to outright imperil their member's from public retribution, just enough to make people consider the possibility of their overall involvement. After all, what better way for one Secret Society to protect itself then to introduce Chinese Whisper's out in the public domain that would target another Secret Society as the culprit? That way if people ever came across evidence of a Grander Organisation being involved, well, their thoughts and imaginations would automatically lead them to the most popular suspect: Those damned Free Mason's.

"Mary Jane Kelly was the last. By this time poor-Abigail must have known the Council was aware of her extra-nightly activities and that Winthrop had betrayed her to them. So she went out with a bang. Knowing that Mary would be her last, that poor woman's death was the most gruesome. The Council were able to capture her directly after and no other poor women were ever harmed by her again.

"When Abigail was presented to The High Twelve, she was truly barking mad. You see, Kane's potions were never supposed to be used consistently … over time she started to develop a resistance … or at least a tolerance to their effects. That, plus being a Slayer meant that she could metabolise these serums more quickly and burn them off in her system within an hour of taking it. It was unanimous; the poor girl was deemed beyond salvation. The Spirit needed to move on."

"So just like that they killed her? Even though her insanity was the result of her idiot of a Watcher playing Magical-Freud?" Said Buffy incredulously.

"Rest assured, Buffy, he was taken to task and he never advanced any further in the organisation then he had already done." Giles answered. "The Council thought that this was a one-off, that it could never be repeated. That Abigail was the first and last. But 20-years later, a Sicilian Slayer did the exact same thing with her Lover. Precisely the same. And during the First World War in France a young Service Man fighting for the Australian and New Zealand Forces met an identical fate. Strangulation. Castration. Cannibalism. Twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern. In all these instances the Slayer's of that time all went justly insane and killed many innocent people thereafter. Women, families … children. Anything, that in their mind represent either love or something they feared they would never have for themselves ever again. After the Great War there was held another massive Conclave for all Watcher's. An unprecedented number participated. Three-Hundred and Twenty from nearly every main city and country throughout the civilised World. All were made aware of the potential peril if a Slayer killed her own Lover."

"It was decided" Reginald pipped in. "… That no longer could a Watcher stand in the background and scare off suitor's or keep their Charge isolated from Society. Some, of coarse chose to do just that. But it was decided that the risk was far too great. After all, what would happen if, like in Kane's case, their Slayer did not heed the advice of their Guardian and the Lover chose to ignore their efforts to send them away? What was decided is what is now known as the Martyr-Sanction."

"What the Hell is that?" Buffy asked.

"That Buffy," Giles answered "Is the authority given to every Watcher with regards to their Charge's protection and care. The Watcher is responsible for none other then that of their Slayer. Everything else becomes secondary. And nothing is more important to a Watcher then a functioning Slayer. For close to a hundred years, anyone who bares the title of Watcher understands that if they observe anyone who may be a Lover, that they are required to address the matter decisively and permanently."

"Are you saying, Giles, that your job … you're to kill them? You were supposed to kill my Lover?"

Giles looked Buffy directly in the eyes and answered. "Considering the Fate that awaited them if you fell in love with him as well as the eventual fate that awaited you if you did? We were trained to make it quick, clean and relatively painless. They would not have suffered. My allegiance would have been to you, not them."

"But … but you never killed my Lover … did you?" Buffy asked, and for the first time there was doubt towards her conviction of Xander.

"No." Reginald answered on Giles behalf. "He didn't have to. Do you think the Council would have sent Rupert, of all people, to be your Watcher especially given his inflammatory theory of Slayer's being made 'better' if they were allowed to interact with their Lovers?"

"But … but …"

"Your first Guardian, Buffy, Merrick." Giles said. "He was a highly respected Watcher, he had trained Five Slayer's in his long life and as such his word was as good as Gospel with regards to the opinion of the High Twelve."

"So? What does he have to do with any of this?"

"There was a young man who he met whilst he was training you. A young man whom you took an instant shine to and who, according to him, rapidly became quite fond of you as well. A Mister Oliver P*"

"*Pike?" Buffy answered her tone soft and questioning. "Merrick thought Pike was my Lover?"

"Yes. He even wrote a communication to that effect to the Council just days before his death. In that correspondence he stated that he believed he had successfully identified your Lover. But that he needed to investigate this matter further."

"And if Merrick did prove that Pike was my Lover … that mean's he would have killed him, doesn't it? My friend … a guy who saved my life at least twice during that damn fire and Vamp attack in the Gym. Merrick would have ended him?"

"Fortunately, that decision never needed to be made by him, Buffy. Lothos, prevented his investigation from proceeding any further. And shortly after his death, this Pike gentleman disappeared from Hemley all together, with you ending up in a Psychiatric Ward of your local Hospital. The Watcher's Council believed that Mr Pike's 'disappearance' and your sudden bout of insanity were both related to one another. They were poised to sending in an Operative to help put you out of your misery and to aid in moving the Spirit on when the unthinkable happened."

"What?" Buffy asked. Shock evident in her voice at being told that the Council was about to 'off' her when she was at her most vulnerable. "What happened?"

"You suddenly became Sane again." Giles answered with a small sad smile. "Unexpected and unprecedented. What were we to do now? With your family struggling to stay together and with your father pushing custody of you upon Joyce. Steps needed to be taken and a strategy considered on how to proceed. Afterall, why kill a Slayer if we didn't need to?

"We discovered that your Mother's Major in College was Art History and using that information to their advantage the Council bought a struggling Gallery on the Hellmouth and sent her Letter stating that she had been highly recommended for the new position of Manager. Even offering her a handsome sum to cover the cost of relocating to Sunnydale. It was too good of an opportunity for her to pass up. She never even questioned who it might have been that 'recommended' her, she was just grateful for the chance of a new life away from LA."

"And then we met …"

"And then we met …" Giles repeated with a slight tang of warmth in his tone. "Given my radical ideas relating to Slayer's, and given that you appeared to be the first Slayer in a hundred years to venture back from insanity after killing your Lover ..*"

"*But I …*"

Giles hastily raised his hands to silence his former Slayer, preventing her from saying too much in front of the other aged Englishman. " … The Council believed that with my unique understanding of Slayer-Psychology that I might be able to get to the bottom of your recovery, and I did."

"What?"

"It was no mystery. Hasty intervention. The right medications. Right Treatment. A supportive family during that stressful time … it all contributed to your recovery. The Council Twelve were satisfied. And as they considered me a resource that they had never been able to be properly utilised, and with Mr Pike's death … They asked me to continue on as your Watcher."

This did not make sense. "Pike? The Council really thought Pike was my 'Lover'?"

Buffy then paused and considered the possibility. Yes, she liked Pike. She felt a connection to him. He certainly went beyond the call of friendship and risked his life fighting at her side. He was different to all the other guys she had dated up until then. He had a dry humour that took you a while to figure out if he was either serious or making fun of you. There was a peculiar nobility about him that was also kind of neat. He wasn't a bragger. And he valued friendship above all things. He was loyal and strangely sweet as well. But most of all he had this dangerous-sexy vibe going for him that made her stomach just spin. A true free-spirit in every sense of the world.

But this meant that if Pike was indeed *her* Lover, like Merrick and the Council believed then that would now fully explain how Xander could be Faith's.

But … *NO*, it had to be Xander! It had to be him. Pike was alive and in Baja, New Mexico. Surfing, working in his own Car and Bike Garage, fighting the odd vamp and Demon on the Weekend's. At least that was what was in his letter too her 8-years ago. It was brief and too the point, just like him. This was the first and last letter he ever wrote her. And she was glad he was alive and seemed so happy and content. But she never dwelled on him like she should have; if he was her Lover shouldn't the two of them being separated be all consuming or something? No …. Pike couldn't have been her Lover.

"Of coarse they did, dear Girl." Reginald's voice broke the spell she was under. "Do you honestly think the Council would have allowed Rupert to continue on as your Watcher if they thought there was any possibility he would put into action those ridiculously dangerous theories of his? I mean putting a Slayer and Lover on the same Team together? Recipe for disaster." Reginald answered with a light chuckle.

Buffy looked back at Giles again, and again her tutelage under the Immortal held her in good stead. Giles was now an open book of tells, and every one of them she did not like reading. "I think Giles and I need to continue this discussion further … and very much alone." Buffy's expression was as neutral as she could make it, after all, she did not wish to give anything away to Reggie.

Giles nodded in agreement. "Yes, I agree. Thank you, Old Chap. I think the worse of all this yesteryear nonsense is well and truly over now." Unnoticed by the ancient Watcher, Buffy, subtlety shock her head in the negative to Giles statement. Something she knew only Giles caught given the sudden apprehension taking form in his eyes and brow.

Feeling dejected that he was now being as easily cast out as he was when he was beaconed; Archer Snr. grasped his walking stick and steadily rose from his chair. With a slight bow of his head to the female he began his journey to the door. But before he left the room he called out to the blonde.

"Love and Life are fleeting things my dear Girl. Cherish the moments. Don't dwell on the past. Rupert kept all this from you because he wished to spare your heart. Mr Pike is gone. He has moved on and that is indeed sad. But there are different degrees of Love in this World. You are still young enough. Some of us old-war-horses only got one go-around. You still have time aplenty to have a few more"

As the door closed behind the veteran Watcher, Buffy spoke up, not wasting any time.

"I did not kill, Pike."

"I know."

"He's alive."

Giles nodded. "Yes, last I checked. Which was when we were in Cleveland three-years ago, but I have been keeping tabs on him. It was difficult at first. He wasn't one for paper-trails, and believe me that was a good thing. After several months the Council gave up looking for him. Believing that he had indeed perished by your hand and you were too ashamed to admit it.

"But I didn't believe it for a second. The moment I met you I could tell you were no murderer. Your eyes still carried hope and love within them. After the Master's demise and whilst you were visiting your father in LA I asked him to use some of his more questionable resources to confirm my suspicions. Angel recommended this character … a Balance Demon friend of his … odd chap … kept raiding my refrigerator and complaining that I didn't have enough mustard … his name escapes me now. But no doubt about it, he was good at his job. It took him all of a couple of months to locate him. Something all the resources of the Council couldn't do in nearly a year. As far as they were concerned, Mr Pike, was dead: Case Closed."

Giles sighed. "Since then I have periodically kept an eye on him. Every couple of years touching base with him. I thought it only right given the two of your history. He sent me a Christmas Card last year. He's married now, with two-children. Twins. Roscoe and Rosetta Pike."

Buffy pulled a face at the names … Roscoe? "He's not really my Lover, Giles. Is he? The Council and Merrick got it wrong, right?"

"Yes." Giles nodded. "Merrick got it wrong. But by his own admission, it was only a theory. And one he had not as yet had a chance to test. But given his reputation, experience and standing, the Council was confident that he would not have made such a claim to them if he wasn't already certain."

"Pike left Hemley to protect me." Buffy said, trying to defend her old boyfriend. "The Arson Squad's Investigation on the Gym and the burnt bodies were all coming up 'Buffy'. And he knew that if he fled they would automatically think he was the guilty one and not me. After all, he was the one with the anti-social reputation around school … the burn-out, as well as the one with the Juvie Record for destruction of property and graffiti. I was Head Cheerleader and total Prom Queen Material. My reputation was Teflon. As far as many were concerned it was the classic Good-Girl gone Bad all for the sake of a Boy she was trying to impress.

"In running from Hemley, he knew that the cops would try and fix him up for everything and spare me and my family grief. He was trying to protect me, Giles. He knew that the evidence all pointed to me and not him, that if they tried to bend the facts to suit their new theory that their Case would fall apart. And it did! Three months later, a month after I got out of Hospital. They abandoned the Investigation saying that there was too many conflicting accounts and that none of it made sense. Guy's with fangs and turning into dust? How could they go to Trail with that?"

"I know. He was very fortunate." Giles again nodded. "You were admitted into Hospital because of the extreme stress you were under with the investigation into the School Fire, Merrick's death and the fact that you were now a Slayer with no supports. The Council never bother to look deeper into the 'whys' for you being committed by your parent's. And the coincidence between Mr Pike vanishing and you ending up in a Psychiatric Ward was too perfect for me not to exploit in-order to give them the false belief that your supposed 'Lover' was dead-and-gone.

"If I told the Council what I had uncovered. That Mr Oliver Pike was, as I suspected, had not been killed by you, but also as I strongly suspected that he was *not* your Lover. That I believe there was another far worthier candidate to that title then he. Then they would have aggressively excused me from duty and I would have been replaced as your Watcher in a hummingbird's blink of an eye. They would have sent me back to work in that dreary Museum all over again doing School Tour's to snot nose degenerates. And *then* they would have taken all the intelligence and the information I had thus far compiled on who I *truly* suspect was your actual 'Lover'…"

"… And then they would have used that data to kill Xander." Buffy completed the sentence for him. She held her breath and then watched Giles expression carefully, waiting for him to reject the name of her best friend from being spoke. After seconds that seemed to labour into hours, at least in her mind, Rupert Giles, her father in all but name and biology answered her. And just as Reggie had said to her a mere 9-minutes earlier, it was indeed both her darkest fear and deepest hope. And that her life would collapse and crumble and that would never be the same again.

"Yes, Buffy." He answered. His voice heavy and tired. "Yes, they would have."

It was the Slayer's turn to nod, and she did it slowly … carefully … methodically.

"Well, then, it seems to me that we have a great deal more to discuss, don't we?"

"I'm afraid so."

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I hope you all enjoyed this. Again very sorry for the long wait. RL … what can I say? Always a drama. Why can't we all live in our work?

Read and review, people. That is the cost of entry

For all the True-Believers out there … you know who you are.

Next chapter we pick up on poor Xander :-(

Eckles71

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